Ravenar wants a mom
by wildwingedwarrior
Summary: ONESHOT. A look into the life of one of the lesser known dead people, Ravenar Yaslana. You might need a tissue, probably, maybe.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything of Anne Bishop's, and the letter that Andulvar reads is actually lyrics from Cindy Lauper's "I want a mom".

* * *

Ravenar Yaslana, the seven-year-old son of Andulvar Yaslana, sat alone on the swing set of a park that was close to his home. He watched as the other Eyrien children played in the park, their mothers standing by in case of an accident or a fight. He looked behind him at the patch of flattened grass, and sighed—even his father didn't stay long to play with him. He returned his gaze to the kids in the park, their faces glowing as they laughed and played, and watched longingly as each mother scooped up her son or daughter to return home for dinner. It wasn't until the last child left ahead of his parents that Ravenar heard the footsteps behind him, and he tightened his grip on the swing, trying to find a way to fill the emptiness in his heart.

"Ready to go, boyo?" Andulvar asked, walking around the swing slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ravenar kept his head down as he slipped off the swing.

Andulvar watched him trudge slowly in the direction of their eyrie, then picked the boy, settling him on his shoulders. "Hungry?"

"Sure."

He looked up, but Ravenar's head was turned so his expression couldn't be read. "How was school?"

"Boring."

"What did you learn?" He felt his son shrug.

"We talked about families."

"Oh?" He smirked. "And what did you say about me?"

Ravenar didn't respond, and remained quiet the rest of the trip home.

* * *

Andulvar rinsed off his plate, and sat in his chair, watching Ravenar pick at his food. "What's wrong, Ravenar? You've never been so quiet."

The Eyrien boy poked a couple more times at the roughly cooked steak on his plate before setting down his fork and pushing his plate away. "Papa, why don't I have a mama like other the kids?" he asked quietly.

Andulvar leaned forward, his crossed arms on the table, and watched as Ravenar mimicked him. "You do, but…." He sighed, resting his head on his arms as he looked at his son. "She just didn't want us like the other mothers want their families." His heart broke into little unfixable pieces as he watched Ravenar climb out of the chair and leave the room, eyes filled with tears. _What have you done, Andulvar?_ he asked himself, slouching in his chair. _You could have just told him she died. But no, you had to hurt the poor boy_. He looked at the plate, at what could have been another meal on another day, at what suddenly was worse than burnt. He used Craft to dump the food into the trash, and moved to the living room, sitting on the couch with a framed picture in his hand.

Two Eyriens, not that long ago, caught in a moment of play by a flash. A carefree father and his rambunctious son who wouldn't take no for an answer, believed that the world was his sandbox. Those were the days Andulvar loved: chasing after Ravenar before the toddler stumbled off the side of the mountain, and wrestling in the more than spacious backyard. It was a good life, and there was no worry for a mother.

Andulvar knew the question would come the moment Ravenar witnessed Peyton leaving his Birthright Ceremony. He didn't know why he put off telling his son why his mother wouldn't be there like she was at Peyton's, or telling him who his mother really was. He never thought it would matter.

He put the picture back in its spot on the table in front of the couch, and looked out of the window at the lights going out. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned to the hallway that would lead him to the bedrooms. He already accepted the fact that he made a mistake and would now suffer the consequences, but he didn't want to see the pain his words caused his only child. Step by controlled, quiet step, he made his way to his son's room. He paused at the door briefly, listening for any noise, and knocked quietly.

There was a soft sniffle, and the rustle of sheets and blankets being moved.

When silence settled on the room, Andulvar opened the door. "Story before bed?" he asked quietly, poking his head into the room. He crossed the room and sat on the end of the bed.

"Why didn't she want us?" Ravenar asked, pulling his knees to his chest.

"I can't tell you." He pulled the boy into his lap, hugging him close. "But believe me when I tell you we're better off without her."

Ravenar rested his head on his father's shoulder, silent.

"Would you like to go hunting with me for dinner tomorrow?"

"I have school."

"You can be sick once and a while…even if you're not."

A smile tugged at the younger Yaslana's lips. "You won't tell, will you?"

"I swear to the Darkness." He stood up, holding Ravenar with one arm as he pulled back the blankets. He tucked the boy into bed, and kissed his forehead. "You're going to be okay by yourself?"

Ravenar nodded. "Night, papa."

"Pleasant dreams." Andulvar turned off the lights, watched his son for a moment, then closed the door.

Ravenar waited until he heard his father's door close before climbing out of bed and turning on the lights. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, and started writing carefully so the letter could be read. When he was done, he folded it up and placed it on his window sill, climbing back under his covers.

* * *

Andulvar opened the door to Ravenar's room, looking at the unmoving mound that was his son for a few minutes before taking in the dark room. His eyes rested on the folded piece of paper on the window sill. Without thinking, he took the paper, closed the door behind him as he left, and made a ball of witchlight so he could read as he walked back to his room.

The front of the paper said: To Witch. What was written inside, though, had Andulvar reading the letter multiple times.

_I want a mom that'll take my hand, and make me feel like a holiday. A mom to tuck me in that night, and chase the monsters away. I want a mom that'll read me stories, and sing a lullaby.  
And if I have a bad dream, to hold me when I cry. When she says to me, she will always be there to watch and protect me, I don't have to be scared. And when she says to me I will always love you, I won't need to worry 'cause I know that it's true. I want a mom when I get lonely who will take the time to play. A mom who can be a friend and a rainbow when it's gray. I want a mom to make it all better. I want a mom that will last forever. I want a mom that will love me whatever, forever._


End file.
